AN: Taking a hint from the lack of reviews, I've decided that for those of you who have reviewed this story before and would like to recieve the rest of the fic, email me or let me know in a review and I'll send the updates to you. I'll either do it by chapter, or I'll just give you the entire story, since I'm busy with school and work. Unless there's like, a miracle and more people actually start liking this fic and show it, that's the way it's going to be. If you haven't reviewed before but want the rest of the story, you'll just have to hope that more people have now been motivated to review, too. Maybe this is my own fault for deleting all my other Colby fics in a fit of rage. Bad karma and what not.

Chapter 4

I'll admit it - I might be a bit impressed. Granger has been going through the various training stages pretty quickly, quicker than most do. He's a decent shot, and he can adapt at a moderate pace, I suppose.

"Damn, he's good."

I glare at Cleo, who totally ambushes my train of thought. "I guess."

"Oh, come on Eden," she puts a decorated hand on a hip and points at the man on the other side of the mirror, about a floor below us. The training room is a long, wide and high empty space, with tons of equipment pushed off to the sides. Obstacle courses can be set up in less than an hour, during which the trainee spends time doing pushups, sit ups, bench presses, whatever the trainer tells him to do. "Look at him! He's as good as you!"

My neck twitches, a sure sign that I won't hesitate to throttle the next person to irritate me. A string of fast gunfire explodes and seven dummies hit the ground, while Granger finishes the obstacle course, chest rising and falling heavily. "He's too confident."

Cleo checked her watch. "Considering he just beat your best time...I'd say that's warranted."

"What?" My head snaps in her direction. If she wasn't so clueless, I might have hit her.

"By two point three seconds. See?" She shows me the time and my twitch speeds up. "Just imagine, by the end of the week he'll be one of the best."

"He still needs field experience. It's completely different in the real world," I try to reason.

She shrugs and turns back to watch him help put the equipment back away. "Well, if he's half as good as you are, as a team, you two will be a force to be reckoned with."

Ignore the compliment. Ignore it. "Braden's my partner."

"Not for long. I think he's getting paired up with Nell, since Travis is going under deep cover next week."

Travis had been assigned Nell's partner almost instantly, thanks to D's good instincts. They had been a great team from the start, and they had also been great friends, always been seen cracking jokes on each other and others, or having quiet conversations in the corner. I almost envied their connection they had with each other. I also respected it.

"Nell and Braden? Great. By the end of their first shift they're going to be giggling over inside jokes and sharing dirty secrets in the break room."

"Eden."

I turn around at the sound of my voice behind me. One of the trainers, Jason, is standing there, sweaty. "You're up."

Oh yeah. Did I mention? I'm the one who gets to test his one on one combat skills. "I'll be right there. Give him a few minutes to breathe." He raises his eyebrow at me. "When I kick his ass, I don't want him to have an excuse."

"You got it." He leaves and I can feel Cleo's eyes on me. When I look back at her, she's smirking.

"What?"

"You like him."

"Jason?"

"Colby."

"No, I don't." How is it that she can come up with that after seeing me watch the man for thirty minutes, but when a man has been in love with her for almost two years she has no frickin clue? Besides, I don't like facial hair. If only I was really that superficial.

"Oh. Right."

"When did everyone suddenly become my match maker? No, don't answer that. I'm going to go kick that arrogant ass until he's fricking crying for his mommy."

---

"So, Granger, enjoying your training?" We're circling each other on the blue mat, neither of us so much as blinking. As soon as the bell goes, it's time to attack.

"It's a bit easy, but I'm sure that's not your fault," he smiles all too sweetly at me.

"Well, I didn't want to embarrass you on the first day of your training."

"Are you always this funny?"

The bell rings. In less than a second I charge him, tackling him to the ground. We're rolling around, limbs entangled and flying, both trying to get a hold on our opponent. The sound of low thuds and thwacks echo in the large room, followed by grunts of frustration and a bit of pain. I half flip, half roll over his head and wrap my legs around his knees, and get him in a headlock. If

this were a real fight, I could have snapped his neck and broken both his legs by now, and he knows it, but still, for some incomprehensible reason I can't quite release him.

"Okay, okay. I get it, you win."

A rush of warmth pools in the pit of my stomach and for a split second I freeze, then let him go as if he stung me. Granger rolls over and jumps to his feet. He holds out a hand to help me up. I push myself up. He takes his hand back and smirks as if he just won the round.

"I gotta say," he says as we begin to circle again, "I'm a bit surprised by you, Eden."

"Well, newbie, you shouldn't-" the bell cuts me off and a flurry of fists and legs fly between us. This time, he puts up a pretty good fight, and I'll admit that I'm really impressed - to myself anyways. It takes me almost a minute to take him down this time. I hold out a hand to help him up. He looks at it for a few seconds, then smiles and takes it...and yanks me down towards him. Relying on experience and training I slap my other hand on his shoulder, and push off the ground with my foot. I fly over him, twisting in the air to prevent my shoulder getting torn.

Not missing a beat, he rolls on his back until he's facing me and kicks a leg out, releasing my hand. I jump over his ankle and kick his chin, slightly harder than needed. But hey, criminals won't be so considerate. By this time, a cheering crowd is forming along the perimeter of the gym. Jason was probably kind enough to spread the word that "Eden's going to kick another newbie's ass!"

Granger gets pushed back by the force, but in one fluid movement he snaps up to his feet, fists up to protect his face from getting ambushed again. I grin at him and his hand flies to my face, drawing blood on my cheek.

I unleash a set of kicks and punches and he blocks every one of them. When he advances, my reflexes take over, and I let them, knowing they'll serve me well. While more complicated moves are making us both work, I block out all other noises, including the voices of my friends and co-workers, cheering me on. Out of nowhere, I get flipped over, landing on my stomach and when I see Granger move in out of the corner of my eye, I suck in a quick breath, transfer all my body weight onto my hands and thrust my feet into his abdomen. What was supposed to knock him off his feet didn't work in the least. His wrists clamped over my ankles tightly and twisted them over, so I was now staring at the ceiling.

This is where I thank my trainer for making me run for an hour, twice a day if I at all can. I flex my muscles, turn my legs into firm poles and snap them apart, pulling his arms with them.

Taking him off guard was the only reason that worked, because his grip loosens, and standing on my hands again, just at a more awkward position, my feet fly to either side of his head and clap angrily against him.

Dropping onto my back, my leg shoots out and takes his feet from under him and he lands with a thud, probably still seeing stars from getting clamped between my shoes. I curl my fingers around his wrist, flip him onto his stomach and twist his arm so he can't even move without inflicting pain, and possibly dislocating his shoulder. My knees are on either side of his hips, and I'm already dreading the rumors that Braden is going to start. I only wish that my mind wasn't instantly in the same place as his usually is.

But dirty thoughts or not, I still win.

We're both breathing heavily when I lean over to talk into his ear over the loud cheers that just don't stop. "You're not going to attack me if I let you go?"

"No," he manages between long gasps of breath. "Promise."

"I'm trusting you." I release him and he rolls over, still confined to the space between my legs. I think it would be safe to say that was the fastest I had ever gotten off an opponent. His chest is rising and falling quickly and he's still lying there, staring at me as if he was reading my mind. I was more comfortable in seventh grade when I got my first period in the middle of a class than I was at that moment.

I stick out a hand, holding his gaze with what I know looks like confidence. He takes it and let's me help him up, but doesn't let me take my hand back. I refuse to back down though. "Good job, kiddo," I say.

Stop the presses! It is officially possible to see Antarctica through someone's eyes! But instead of dropping my hand like a piece of hot coal, like most men would, he pulls me closer with a light jerk. "You too, Eden. You're a helluva fighter."

The way he's staring at me, like there's not a crowd still laughing, hooting and clapping around us, makes me want to disappear. There's a dangerous mixture of anger, frustration and lust that won't let my eyes move away from his. He could have probably thrown me down and taken me right there and I wouldn't have been that surprised.

When suddenly Braden is slapping Granger on the shoulder and singing him praises he gives me back my hand. And yes, I mean "gives me back," because if he wanted to take my hand to Italy that day, he probably would've been able to.

But thankfully, after years of acting casual in otherwise extremely uncomfortable and dangerous situations, playing it cool isn't that terribly hard.

"See ya around," I say casually to him, and I turn and stroll away, wiggling my fingers by my side.

---

I know there's a reason we have separate change rooms and showers for the men and women, but I never really cared - I had always just used the co-ed ones. I've had to pretend to be married to over half the male field agents and have had to at least make out with them on more than one occasion so that day after The Fight I didn't think twice about going into the same shower as I always do.

Enter Colby Granger.

As he walks into the showers, I can hear him calling one last thing to someone (would have thought Braden, but he's made quite a few friends already, after The Fight) before the metal door shuts, chuckling to himself then taking the stall next to mine.

I check the door on mine, just to make sure it's locked. I had already turned my shower off so I can hear him kick off his shoes then a few moments of clothing rustling against his skin.

Oh god, he's stripping three feet away from me.

I don't move a single muscle until the water in his stall is on. Being as quiet as I can - which is pretty damned quiet - I grab the pile of my sweaty clothes (working out for three hours will do that) and my bag with my shampoo and such and slowly exit.

I'm almost home free before he laughs, seemingly at himself. "I know you're in here, Eden."

I swallow. Such a waste of sneakiness.

"I saw you come in before."

"And?" Stay cool, stay calm.

"Nothin'," he replies nonchalantly.

I cannot for the life of me get the picture of an all too naked Colby Granger under the shower out of my head, all skin and rippling muscles with water droplets running down his body in a shameless excursion.

"Just thought I'd save you from the trouble of being sneaky."

"I wasn't trying to sneak out," I snap back defensively but kick myself for being so transparent.

"Okay. Never mind, then."

I despise him for being so laid back. He's here for less than twenty-four hours and he already thinks he owns the damn place. For a moment, I'm just standing there, wondering if I'm supposed to say something or wait for him to speak. I simply walk out instead, not noticing the clothing item I dropped on the floor.

---

I won't let him kick me out of the co-ed showers. I won't I won't I won't I won't. And I will friggin' enjoy having him not kick me out of the co-ed showers. I'll never be able to walk into the room without having that godawful memory come back to taunt me, but I was here first, therefore, I get dibs.

And to prove that I won't get kicked out I set up temporary shop in that specific room after I saw Granger leave it to go to a meeting or something. I'm currently sitting on the counter, one foot stuck in a sink filled with warm water, a razor in my hand, shaving cream covering my legs. I've got my mp3 player hooked up to portable speakers, which are now blaring Bob Segar's Old Time Rock n' Roll. On repeat.

Biting my bottom lip, I drag the blade along my calve when I hear the door open and Cleo walks in, her open lap top balancing in one hand in front of her, tapping at the keyboard with the other. "Hey Eden," she mumbles to me and hops onto the counter, sitting on the other side of the sink. "Congrats on your victory today."

"Thanks," I grin proudly, turning the volume down. "So, any news on Nell? Her and Braden the next 'it' team?" I do my best to keep my resentment out of my voice. I know my feelings are irrational, since we'll still work together often, but when your partners, it's a big deal. Your partner is the one you go to when you're feeling like shit, or need to dump emotional baggage somewhere. They never let each other down. Ever. And by not being Braden's partner, I'm doing exactly that - I'm letting him down.

"Nah, that'd be you and Colby."

I roll me eyes and sigh. "So how many rumors are going around already?"

Cleo looked up from the screen and blinked. "Rumors? Here? What evil is this I'm hearing?" After a short moment of silence we burst into laughter that echoes loudly in the dreary room and I accidentally knock my shaving cream bottle into the sink. We get drizzled by droplets of water and sudsy cream, I let out a short scream but Cleo just tries to protect her dear and precious computer. I lean back against the wall and sit there, shoulders shaking and eyes starting to tear up. Neither of us heard the two men walk in, until Braden sauntered over and hoisted himself up next to Cleo.

"How's my favorite woman?"

"Who?" she asked, hopelessly clueless.

"Never mind."

"No really, who..."

They continue their mindless banter but my eyes are locked onto the other man's. Granger stood there, hands in his jean pockets, looking casual and comfortable, as if this had happened everyday of his life. There was the slightest hint of a smile on the mans newly clean-shaven face.

And this is where I swear to god I die and go to Gutter Heaven.

I have a strange fetish with hands and jaws and now that I can finally see his face, I know that I am in serious trouble. He lifts his chin in a greeting and I force myself not to look away. I wave

my hand that's holding the razor and continue to shave, noticing that Cleo is back to staring at her computer and Braden's head is slightly tilted to the side, staring at her contemplatively.

After a few seconds of silence she jumps up, puts the laptop on the counter, and jumps up shouting, "YES!" She screeches for a good five seconds, dancing from foot to foot. "I totally hacked it!" She snatches her computer and runs out of the room.

"Wait!" Braden calls, running after her like a puppy, "Hacked what?"

"I'm not telling you..."

There voices fade away quickly, leaving me and Granger alone. Again. "What's up?" he asks, trying to make this less awkward.

"Shaving my legs," I lift the razor.

"Ah," his hand automatically lifts to rub his jaw. When he notices what he's doing he shrugs sheepishly and drops it.

"I dig the new look," I attempt to converse.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, it's...clean." Man, I suck at socializing, especially with people I hate.

He smirks at me and takes a few steps closer. He leans against the counter, crossing one leg over the other and turns his head to look at me. "You were really good today."

"I know." It amazes me how effortless it is to act conceited but I get the annoying feeling that he isn't buying it.

"I heard we're going to be partners."

"We won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I all ready have a partner. I don't need another one." I'm very quickly getting angry, and it's only a matter of time before I snap. "Braden's my partner. Not you."

"Uh-huh. You know," he pushes himself off and pivots to face me, now inches away from me, "would it kill you to be nice? Just for a few minutes?"

"I'd rather not take that risk. You see I have this appointment next week to get my nails done and I would hate to miss it."

He doesn't say anything, just stares at me in a way I'm already expecting. He breathes a short, humorless laugh. "Right. Oh, and uh," he pulls something, black and lacy out of the pocket in his

jacket, "you dropped this before when you were running away from me." He dangles my bra in front of my face, then drops it on my lap. "D wants to see us upstairs in his office."

"I'm shaving."

"Now." He turns and ambles away.